Miss Victory
by Rayner Fox
Summary: It started with a simple question that led to a surprising answer. "Did Miss Victory exist?" Steve merely nodded at this question, and he couldn't help fondly recalling a little brown haired girl instead of the romatized character that the media portayed her as. He couldn't help remembering his little sister.
1. Loneliness

**Loneliness**

* * *

"The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness. Memories need to be shared."

Lois Lowry, _The Giver_

* * *

It'd started with a simple question, a question that led to a surprising answer.

A week after the Battle of Manhattan, Tony invited all the Avengers to his mansion while Stark Tower was being rebuilt. Steve accepted, his apartment had been destroyed during the chaos and S.H.I.E.L.D. had yet to provide other options (though he suspected that they wanted him to take the offer anyway.)

A month after that, two new heroes joined the Avengers Initiative, Ant-Man and Wasp. There was story behind their draft into the Avengers, but S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't tell them what that was.

_This is going to take some getting used to,_ he'd thought when Ant-Man and Wasp (or Hank and Janet as they liked to be called when off duty) had first grown back to normal size. He supposed he'd seen weirder things in his life time, he just couldn't remember when.

To his surprise, it didn't take long to get used to the constant growing and shrinking of Janet and Hank. What _was_ taking a long time to get desensitized to, however, was Clint and Natasha's habit of popping up unnoticed around him.

Steve began a schedule of his own after a while of living at the mansion. There wasn't much for him to do. He wasn't a scientist like Bruce or Hank, he wasn't an inventor like Tony, and he _definitely_ wasn't helpful in the lab like Janet. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't often give him a mission like they did Natasha and Clint.

So he began a routine of his own leisure. During the morning, he'd go on a jog before breakfast, then after breakfast he'd work out in the gym. After his work out, he'd spend his time familiarizing himself with the history he'd missed.

Sometimes he'd be in his room for the duration of his studies or he'd spend some of it in the extensive library of the mansion. And _that_ was where Janet found him one afternoon.

"What'cha doing?" she asked as she zipped in beside him.

"Reading," he answered offhandedly, almost solely focused on the book in front of him.

"I can see that, but why a high school social studies textbook?" she questioned while alighting on the edge of the textbook.

"I missed a lot and I need to catch up," Steve replied, looking up from where he was reading and turned the page.

"You lived at least a chapter of what's in here," she mused. "Hey there's a question I've been meaning to ask you, you don't _mind_, do you?"

Steve merely smiled, he'd gotten used to being asked question about the events he'd lived through. "Sure, go ahead."

"Historians aren't reliable on this, but _did_ Miss Victory exist?" Janet asked excitedly. Clearly, she _really_ liked the historical figure she was talking about.

"Yes, Miss Victory _did_ exist," Steve replied. He was thankful that his words didn't choke in his throat. While it may be a subject of interest to Janet, to him it was _still_ an opened emotional wound.

She smiled broadly. "Thanks Steve, I was sure she existed, but historians are saying this or that, and I couldn't be sure."

Janet zipped off again, getting what she needed from the library and left.

Steve tried to return to his reading, but couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about a young lady barely becoming a woman with a disarming, but shy smile. A young lady becoming a woman determined to fight for her country.

* * *

_It was a dreary day when Steve arrived at the orphanage and the first thing he noticed about the place was that a little girl with brown hair in pig tail style braids was sitting on a window seat staring at people who happened to pass by. She'd given him a sad but somehow comforting smile and a friendly wave as he was escorted into the building._

_He didn't know her name or anything else about her, but that small gesture comforted him in a dark hour. Everything was unfamiliar to him, but that friendly gesture reassured him that things might get better for him. _

_That night he ended up in a room with other boys his age in the empty half of a bed._

_The first sad days at the orphanage turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. During the duration of that time, Steve felt lonely but he surprisingly found a friend in his bunkmate, James who preferred to be called Bucky. He saw the little girl many times, but they never spoke. Steve tried to talk with her, but she usually remained quiet and he didn't know why._

_In the meantime, his friendship with Bucky flourished. They had many commonalities, but there were many differences, their health and self-preservation instincts (or lack _thereof_) were perfect examples of that. It didn't take long for a routine to forge itself. _

_If (or rather _when_) Steve got himself into a situation where he was getting beaten up during a failed attempt to defend someone from a bully, Bucky would jump in and save him from said beating._

_Once in a while the person he was defending from being bullied was the little girl, yet he'd didn't even know her name._

_"Who's that kid?" Steve asked one afternoon as all the children of the orphanage walked home from school. Ahead of him and Bucky walked most of the girls, most of them older than either of them. Among this group was the little brunette girl with braids being escorted by the older girls._

_"You mean Braids up there?" Bucky asked pointing to the little girl._

_"Yeah, who is she?"_

_"That's Molly O'Brian."_

_"You mean Molly O'_Dumb_," piped up Max, the resident bully of the orphanage, loud enough for the group of girls to hear him._

_"Why's she so quiet?" Steve ventured to asked, hoping that it'd be Bucky who answered._

_Instead, Max chuckled a little before saying: "That kid's either mute _or too_ stuck up to speak to any of us."_

_"Why do you say that?" Bucky asked, evidently curious as to what other theories there were about Molly's silence._

_"They say that before Molly came to the orphanage, her family was rich, but she wasn't an only child. She had a greedy older brother, and when her parents died her brother sent her here, because he didn't want to deal with her," Max responded in a conspiratorial tone._

_"I _doubt_ that's the _real_ story of why Molly's here," Steve said flatly. The story he'd just been told might be plausible, but Steve thought it sounded too outlandish, besides Molly didn't seem stuck up to him. _

_"Trust me, _that's_ what happened and she's too stuck up to speak with us," the bully replied in a voice that was loud enough to be heard by others walking nearby._

_"How would you know if she's never talked to anyone? I bet she's just shy and lonely," challenged Steve as Max walked on with a shrug. Ahead of them Steve couldn't help, but notice that Molly had looked over her shoulder and was watching them._

_After that conversation with Max, Steve resolved to become friends with Molly, but it seemed to be a herculean task. Molly hardly said a word even to those of her own gender and she had a surprising talent for slipping away unnoticed when she wanted._

_"Give it up, Steve," Bucky said one evening when Molly got up from the table she'd been eating at as he and Bucky had just sat down. "Molly's a lost cause. She won't talk to anyone she doesn't want to, and she definitely doesn't want to talk to you." _

_Steve only sighed at this._

_Becoming friends with the younger girl did seem like a lost cause, and Bucky might have been right. In fact he was partially correct, if Molly didn't want to talk to someone, she merely gave them a knowing expression and sometimes nodded while saying nothing until the person talking got bored of have a one-sided conversation. _

_However, if she _did_ desire a conversation, it usually occurred on her terms and _she_ was the one who initiated it. She always waited until she found the right moment to speak._

_It took a while, but when Molly finally found the right moment to speak, it caught both him and Bucky off guard …._

_"Leave _him_ alone, Max!" her shrill cry tore through the fray as she stepped between the bigger boy and him and Bucky._

_Steve had gotten himself into the usual situation again. He'd attempted to stop Max from picking on some of the newest members of the orphanage._

_Of course, Bucky had stepped in and tried to help when Steve couldn't do it himself, but Max was bigger than both of them._

_"What?!" Max sputtered, dumbfounded that the smallest and quietest in the orphanage had tried to break up the fight and was surprisingly succeeding._

_"I _said_, leave _them_ alone!" she repeated angrily. Before Max had any more time to react she charged at him and shoved Max, sending him stumbling backwards and into a laundry basket._

_To say that everyone was surprised by Molly's actions would be the understatement of _that_ century._

* * *

Steve ran a hand through his uncombed hair as he nursed a cup of almost lukewarm coffee. He'd had a hard time sleeping again. Visions of what he'd seen throughout the wartime plagued his dreams and a certain female American icon was making cameos in his dreams for the first time in a while.

He had decided to forgo sleep that night in order to keep those dreams at bay.

The _click-clack_ of high heels against the stone floor brought Steve out of his reminiscing. He knew that one of the women in living in the mansion was coming to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Steve," greeted Pepper as she entered the kitchen. Pepper was always one of the first one up, so he often talked to her in the mornings.

"Morning, Pepper."

"How was your run?" Pepper began to rummage around the cupboards. She probably had a harder job than any of the Avengers, herding two scientists (Hank was Janet's responsibility) and running a Fortune 500 company was definitely harder than saving the world.

"The weather's gonna be nice today," he commented, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Are you alright?" Pepper asked him. She had pretty much become a big sister to every Avenger with the exception of Tony.

"I suppose so."

"Uh-huh, Steve lying is not one of your specialties. You're hurting, anyone could see that, _including_ Tony," the strawberry blonde woman prompted in a comforting tone as she took a seat at the table expectantly. "It always lightens the load when you share it with someone."

"It's not something I like talking about," he said attempting to dodge the topic.

It wasn't as if this was an unexpected gesture. He'd talked to Pepper about a lot of things, including his _almost_ relationship with Peggy. The only topic that hadn't been brought up was that of Miss Victory or Molly, as she was better known to him as.

"Did Janet's question bother you?" she asked suddenly.

"No, no. It's just I don't …." Steve sighed defeated; he didn't know the right words to describe how he felt about Molly.

"You miss her, don't you?"

"Yeah, I _do_ miss Molly."

Pepper merely nodded, mulling over what he'd told her.

"You know, my mother died when I was very young and my father raised me," she said in a comforting tone. "When I got older and wanted to know more about my mother, I took a cue from _Because of Win Dixie_."

"'_Because of Win Dixie_'?"

"It's a good book and a movie. Anyway, Dad and I made a list of all the things Mom was and we added to it every year on my birthday. It became a way of remembering her," Pepper suggested. "I now do it for my father every year and treasure the list of my mom. Maybe to remember Molly, you should do something special."

Steve nodded thoughtfully, before asking: "Did it help to remember?"

"Yeah, it did. It became easier for my dad to talk about Mom," she replied, before getting up and retrieving her breakfast from the cupboards.

Steve thought for a moment as he downed his coffee and headed to his room. He decided to skip his work out session and act on Pepper's suggestion.

His room in the mansion looked like it still belonged in the 40's; he had Tony to thank for that. If it weren't for JARVIS interrupting the silence every now and then, he might actually wake up thinking he was still in the time he was born in.

From one of the book shelves of the bookcase, he selected an empty sketchbook, a permanent marker, and a few pencils. Steve set the supplies on his desk and opened the sketchbook. On the inside cover, he wrote: "Molly O'Brian" with the permanent marker and flipped opened to the second page in the sketchbook.

Sighing, Steve settled into his desk chair, he knew that he wanted to draw something that was a special characteristic of Molly, but he didn't know what to draw. He didn't often think about Molly, it was for the same reason the he didn't think about Bucky.

Steve sighed again and rotated his chair so he could stare out the window. He couldn't find the right memory to draw, most moments he could think of made him too sad to draw.

From the window, he began to glance around his room. Tony had taken the liberty of decorating his room with different pictures, they were mostly stuff that he would have seen on the walls of theaters as a kid, but one of them was a picture of fireworks.

He couldn't help but smile when the thoughts of Molly and fireworks collided. Steve swiveled his chair back to the desk and began a drawing which he planned to title: "Trust."

* * *

_The incident with Max was the christening moment in the start of an unlikely friendship for the three of them, it especially surprised both of them that Molly had the courage to assist them and Molly seemed intent upon surprising them more than once._

_She began talking to them more and more, but still it was only when she chose to converse. Bucky was fairly hesitant about the friendship with probably the least conversationalist person in the world, but he tolerated her and Steve was pretty sure that Bucky admired the spunk that Molly possessed when needed._

_Steve did find that Molly _was_ pretty lonely. He didn't find out why Molly was so quiet, or at least not at first, but he did find that she was quite talkative when she wanted to be or wasn't intimidated._

_Eventually, when Bucky started to warm up to the less than talkative Molly, he made it his personal mission to find the one hundred and one ways to make her laugh, much to Steve and Molly's amusement._

_A few months after their friendship began; one of the few things that they learned about Molly was that there was a three-way tie for her favorite day of the year. Those days would be her birthday, Christmas, and the Fourth of July._

_"Bucky, Steve, come on," squealed Molly, this was the most excited they'd ever seen her before. "I really want to see the fireworks."_

_"Hold your horses, Molly," Steve panted as he followed Bucky and Molly into Central Park. _

_"Just hold on, Squirt," Bucky said, stopping the party of three just past the entrance. "Let Steve catch his breath."_

_"Oh, right, sorry." Molly shuffled her feet. Steve could see that she was excited to see the firework display._

_"Its okay, Molly. It's the Fourth; you're allowed to be excited," Steve placated, bringing a smile onto Molly's face. "So you ready to get that spot you were talking about?"_

_"Yeah, but are you guys ready?"_

_"Of course we are, Squirt, let's go," Bucky said, patting Steve on the shoulder as they moved further into the park with Molly leading the way._

_The Fourth of July was a special day for those living at the orphanage; they were given some money, and escorted to Central Park by some kindly neighbors where they were let loose for most of the afternoon. _

_Molly, Bucky, and Steve were trailing behind for Steve's sack, but Molly was really eager for something, and she wouldn't tell what._

_"Do you think she's more excited about the fireworks or the ice cream?" Bucky muttered to Steve as Molly skipped ahead of them._

_"It's probably something else if Molly is anything like she usually is." _

_Slowly Molly led them to a grassy knoll with some shady trees. It wasn't too far from the pathway, and a very nice place to sit and relax._

_"So is this where we're gonna be spending the rest of the afternoon?" Bucky questioned as Molly reclined on the incline._

_"Yep, but you don't have to if you don't want to," Molly said softly, as she played with her single braid that she wearing for the special occasion. Normally, Molly had a pig tail set of braids, but for the Fourth the older girls of the orphanage had done something special and made it in a single one held in place with a blue ribbon._

_"Nah, we haven't got anywhere else to go, Squirt," replied Bucky. "Well at least for the time being." _

_"This is a nice spot to draw, Molly. I wish we could come here more often," Steve said. _

_Molly just nodded._

_As the afternoon continued, Bucky went off for a while to play with some of the other boys, Steve drew their game on a small sketch pad as best he could, and Molly was content with watching everyone. When Bucky's game came to an end, the three of them get ice cream from a street vender and sat under the tree eating it._

_The evening was coming and Steve and Bucky were conversion with Molly interjecting every now and again._

_It wasn't too long until the firework display would begin as their conversation fizzled out when Molly revived it with a question that took them off guard especially since it was Molly who asked it ….._

_"So Steve, Bucky, how'd you … end up at the orphanage?" she asked sheepishly with a yawn._

_"My parents died in a car accident," Bucky said bluntly._

_"Oh … I'm sorry to hear that. What... What about you, Steve?" Molly turned to him with a small expectant smile. "You don't have to say if you don't want to."_

_She must have noticed his hesitant look. Steve knew that Molly wouldn't pry if it was something emotional and private._

_"No, it's just my family wasn't the best and my dad … well," Steve trailed off. Bucky already knew the story and Molly was smart enough to fill in the blanks, even if she was quite a few year younger than them._

_"What about you, Molly? Why are you here?" Bucky asked and the effects were instantaneous. Molly's face went almost void of emotion; apparently the topic was a touchy one._

_"It's alright, Molly, you don't have to say if you don't want to," Steve said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Plus the fireworks are gonna start."_

_The first initial boom of the fireworks sent them looking to the sky and aweing over the bright colors contrasting the night sky._

_Molly looked up at the sky for a moment, but her gaze returned to the ground, a very thoughtful look on her face._

_"My parents had to leave with me with my brother to get work, but something happened and my brother left me at the orphanage after a few months. He _promised_ he'd come back for me, but I don't_ _think he's gonna," Molly said in a soft sad voice, but it captivated Steve and Bucky's attention immediately._

_"I'm so_ sorry_,_ _Molly," Steve said._

_"Your brother might've left you here, but you got us and we're gonna stick together," Bucky said._

_Molly looked up from the grass patch she'd been staring at and to them, slowly a genuinely bright smile spread across face. With that smile on her face, Molly turned back to the sky and watched the fireworks explode brightly._

_That night Bucky gave a sleeping Molly a piggy-back ride back to the orphanage._


	2. Comfort

**Comfort**

* * *

"Sometimes, the best way to help someone is just to be near them."

Veronica Roth, _Divergent_

* * *

Steve awoke in a cold sweat; his ears still rang with the sound of exploding artillery that only existed in his head now, and the deep, _unsettling_ sensation that he was still being watched swept over him.

Moonlight poured in the window of his room, casting odd eerie shadows around his time capsule-like room.

"Merely a nightmare," he murmured in a tone not dissimilar to relief. "Only a nightmare."

Though no one would hear him, Steve repeated those words a few times over hoping that they would act as a talisman to chase away the ghosts in his head. The people he saw in his dreams (many of whom he missed dearly) were no longer with the world, they had been lost to either the hands of time or _the_ war or a combination of both.

He heaved a long sigh, trying to get his breathing to return to normal to no avail. Despite being in wakefulness, Steve's mind played back the scene he'd witnessed in his dreams.

_The war never truly ended, not for me …_ he admitted to himself as his breathing finally began to even. The scene from his memories replayed by his dream featured Molly. He hated to think that despite all the strength she'd possessed, all the courage, and all the other qualities that made her Miss Victory, she hadn't survived the war.

He sighed again, still trying to chase away the ghosts of his dreams before throwing his sheets off of him. It took him a bit to untangle his body from the blankets; he had a habit of tossing and turning during his sleep. But as soon as the cloth was off of his body, he made his way out of his room and to the kitchen.

He glanced at the iridescent red glow of the digital clock on the large oven. It affirmed what he expected; no one would be up at that early of an hour.

Steve didn't turn on the lights as he surveyed the kitchen, he didn't know why, but he felt that if he turned them on, it'd disturb something suspended in the darkness.

_Could make a pot of coffee,_ he pondered in groggy awareness. _But hot chocolate always chased away bad dreams, or so Mrs. Gilford said._

He padded over to the pantry door and opened it only to find the equivalent of a walk in closet for a larder.

"What does Tony think we're gonna do? Have a bake sale?" Steve mumbled as he scanned the well stocked shelves. "Now, where would the chocolate be?"

"_The chocolate would be hidden in the saucepans in the second cabinet. However, if you're searching for the Semi-Sweet Baker's Chocolate, you will find it next to the tea packets on the third shelf to your left,_" a British accented voice from seemingly nowhere said in a soft tone.

Steve spun around; momentarily tense before remembering that the voice belonged to JARVIS. He often found it somewhere between weird and disconcerting that Tony had programmed an artificial butler to monitor his house and, from what Steve understood, his Iron Man suit.

"Okay … thanks, JARVIS," he said cautiously. Many things had changes between the time periods he existed in and he wasn't too sure what the etiquette was for addressing an AI.

"_You're welcome, Captain Rogers,_" responded the omnipresent voice. "_Might I inquire as to what you intend to use the baker's chocolate for?_"

"Ah … I want to make hot chocolate." Steve grabbed the baker's chocolate from said shelf and weighed it thoughtfully in his hand.

"_Do_ _you intend to make it yourself or would you like to use the pre-made packets?_" JARVIS questioned.

"There are pre-made packets for hot chocolate?" Steve wasn't sure whether to throw a questioning look at the ceiling or elsewhere.

"Yeah, isn't it great?" a voice that belonged to Janet said from behind him. "But what are you doing up?"

"I could easily ask the same question of you," he responded before he could think over his words, and silently made note to stop hanging around Tony so much.

"It's kinda part of my job," she said with a slight yawn. "Being a lab assistant entails late nights helping the scientists or trying to get them to bed. It's ridiculous, but you don't have the same excuse. So why you up?"

He considered keeping his problems to himself, but answered: "I had a nightmare."

Janet gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. This isn't because of my question, is it?"

Steve shook his head as he turned back to reading the labels of the baker's chocolate. "No, I'd be having these nightmares about everything I saw even if you hadn't asked that question."

"_Phew_, I'm really sorry if my questioned bothered you, though. I wasn't asking to intentionally bother you, definitely wouldn't do that," she said shaking her own head.

"Don't worry, it's kinda nice to remember every now and again," he placated; giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"So," Janet continued after an awkward pause, "what does hot cocoa have to do with nightmares and being up late?"

"Hot chocolate was a childhood remedy for nightmares; I was going to check to see if it still worked."

"That would explain why you were asking about the pre-made stuff. Yeah, we have _everything_ already pre-made nowadays. Just add water and heat it up and presto, you've got hot cocoa."

"Neat, but I'd like to do it the old-fashioned way."

"Mind if I help? I'm sure the Science Bros would appreciate it more than coffee," she offered.

"Not at all, do you know where the milk and sugar would be?"

"Sure do, just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you."

With that Janet shrunk down to what the size of a fairy would probably be and fluttered off to get him the sugar.

Steve shrugged and stepped out of the walk-in pantry with the Semi-Sweet Baker's chocolate in hand. Asking JARVIS where a saucepan, cutting board, and knife were, he began to make the hot chocolate.

Though JARVIS offered to look up a recipe for the hot drink, Steve declined, he already knew a recipe by heart.

"Well, here's the milk, and sugar," Janet said as she zipped into the kitchen.

"Great." Steve had already chopped the baker's chocolate to the degree necessary. "Could you please get me a measuring cup?"

When Janet handed him a measuring cup, he poured the milk needed into the cup, and then when his measurements were correct, he transferred it into the saucepan and turned on the stove.

"How long 'til it's done?" Janet asked excitedly as she snatched five mugs from one of the cupboards.

"As soon as the milk is hot enough I can add the chocolate and sugar, and after that it shouldn't be long, but for now it may be a bit," he replied as he took a seat at the kitchen island to wait.

Janet with the mugs in hand, zipped to the island, set the mugs down, and also took a seat after growing back to normal size.

"So, did hot chocolate stop nightmares as a kid? It seems like too _simple_ of a solution to be true," she said after a beat of silence that they both sat and watched the stove until the other got bored.

Steve nodded. "I never had the experience myself, but whenever any of the other kids had a nightmare; Mrs. Gilford would make them a cup of hot chocolate. It comforted as good as their mother could."

She gave him a questioning look. "Other kids?"

"Yeah, I grew up in an orphanage, so our parents weren't there. We either had to find comfort in others, the warm drink, or none at all," he replied with a nod. "How'd you deal with nightmares?"

Janet thought for a moment. "I'd either talk to my parents about the bad dream or I'd think of something really, _really_ nice, a memory or a puppy. Or I'd pet my cat until I calmed down."

Steve nodded again at her answer. Those seemed like a good remedy for bad dreams to him, but making the hot chocolate sure did help.

"What kinds of memories would you think of?" he inquired as he got up from his seat to see if the milk was warm enough yet.

"Happy one, of course. …. Or funny ones …. Actually, you could remember anything you want just as long as it doesn't make you sad, scared, or feel any other negative emotions," she answered. "Is it ready yet?"

"Yep, I think it's ready for the chocolate." Steve slid the chocolate into the saucepan and grabbed a wooden spoon from one of the drawer nearby (he at least knew where _that_ was), and began to stir. "It won't be too long now."

"Great, the Science Bros are gonna love it," Janet squealed softly as he stirred.

It wasn't too long until the chocolate had melted and had mixed with the warmed milk, but Steve didn't care how long it took, he was mulling over Janet's remedies for nightmares. It might have felt lonely and sad to recall memories of Bucky and Molly, but it might be a good idea to add a happy or funny memory to his sketchbook.

"_And_ we're done," he announced as he turned off the burner and grabbed a cup from the island.

Despite a yawn, Janet smiled enthusiastically and began passing him the four other mugs. In a matter of minutes, the saucepan had been completely emptied and each of the mugs had a steaming homemade cup of hot chocolate in it.

"_Mmmm_," Janet moaned as she took a sip of it. "Tastes great, the Science Bros are _definitely_ gonna love it! Thanks!"

With that Janet grabbed the other three mugs and totted them back to the lab, leaving Steve to his own devices.

_What's a happy and/or funny memory of Molly or Bucky anyway?_ he pondered as he walked thoughtfully back to his room, sipping his hot chocolate as he went. He tried to recall the funnier moments, the times Molly laughed until she cried at Bucky's odd jokes, or when the Howling Commandos had gotten their name for reasons other than how they fought.

"What was something funny that either Bucky or Molly did?" he asked out loud as he sat down at his desk. Unfortunately, he couldn't recall any happier moments that weren't tainted by some of his sadness and loneliness. "Hmmm, what was something that Molly and Bucky did?"

A light bulb went off in Steve's head when he asked that. A slightly sad memory came to mind, but nonetheless it brought a smile to his face. He snatched his sketchbook of Molly out of the pile of books after a brief moment of indecision of whose sketchbook the next drawing belonged in.

He would put the memory in Molly book, but it belonged to both Bucky and Molly, if not Molly more so.

* * *

_Dull sunlight seeped through the windows of the small gymnasium, giving the illusion that it was later than it actually was. This was fortunate, since Bucky would have been driven irrationally bored if the noonday sun had been streaming through instead. Steve was thankful for Bucky's company during recess, but sometimes it got annoying being interrupted every so often in his readings._

_It was a normal Monday lunch time activities for the three of them. Steve was reading a book; Bucky was trying to take a nap, and mostly failing; and Molly was …._

_"Shuffle ball change. Shuffle ball change. Shim sham right," the eight year old murmured and her voice was accompanied by the metallic _tap_ on the hard wood of the gym. In lieu of learning how to play ball games like baseball or basketball, all the girls in the middle school they attended learned some form of dance, and for some unfathomable Molly enjoyed._

_Recess for the three had an interesting routine, instead of going to play like most children in school, Bucky, Steve, and Molly had elected to stay in the gym. Steve was probably the only one in there that didn't have a choice in the matter. He wasn't supposed to go outside because his asthma had been flaring up again._

_Bucky was in there mostly for the opportunity to sleep, but since Molly and Steve were there, he was probably there to be with friends._

_Molly, however, was there to practice tap dancing. Steve wasn't sure why she was suddenly practicing, but she'd been doing it for at least a month and that was why they were all in the gym._

_"What are you reading, Steve?" Bucky asked as he shifted from lying on the floor to a sitting position. Steve chuckled slightly, Bucky had finally realized that it was futile to fall asleep on the floor of the room._

_"Sherlock Holmes," he answered briefly while turning back to the book._

_"Any good?"_

_"Yep."_

_"Any big words?"_

_"Yep, do you want to read it?"_

_"Nah, big words don't agree with me." _

_"You should try it sometime, you'd find that books with big words are often really good ones," Steve encouraged before both fell silent. The only sound that occupied the room was once again Molly's muttering and tapping._

_"Why do you think that Molly's practicing _so_ much?" Bucky asked in a dull tone. It was a good question. They'd known Molly for at least two years and they hadn't seen her do that much dancing at all during that time._

_"_It's_ Molly, Bucky, sometimes you just don't know what or why she's doing something, but we usually see the results," Steve reminded him. "Remember what happened last July?"_

_"Oh, yeah, but that made sense if you looked at it right," Bucky mumbled back. "But this one sure don't and it doesn't look like we're gonna get cookies out of this one. Plus it isn't anyone's birthday or at least not anyone Molly would know."_

_He nodded. Molly liked to make everyday special (or special to her), and she made it especially certain that all the holidays she liked were special to everyone and that included birthdays of those she knew._

_"_Why_ don't you ask me?" Molly said and immediately they both realized that the _tap_-_tap_ rhythm had stopped._

_"Ah … why are you practicing so much?" Bucky questioned in an uncertain tone._

_Molly smiled brightly and Steve had to wonder what she was planning._

_"I want to be in the Thanksgiving Assembly," she declared, punctuating it with a _tap_ of her shoes._

_Steve smiled and he heard Bucky restrain a laugh. Molly was old enough that her grade level would be included in the assembly, it was rare that kids like them got involved with school activities like that._

_Since the programs put on were usually for the parents, they didn't go to them, despite being encouraged to participate in them._

_Bucky had to strangle a laugh because of that, and the fact that they both knew that Molly needed to practice a _lot_ if she was going to be in it._

_"You don't think I can do it?" She threw Bucky and Steve a questioning look._

_"No, it's not _that_, Molly. It's just you've got a lot of work ahead of you," Bucky said quickly._

_"Yeah, that's why I'm practicing," she answered. "I think that if I practice a lot until the assembly, I should be able to be good enough to be in it."_

_"I'm sure you can, and I'm sure that if you had _help_, you'd do better," Steve said, giving Bucky a nudge with his elbow._

_"You really think so?"_

_"You _had_ to tell her _that,_ didn't you?" Bucky muttered too softly for Molly to hear. The energetic and hopeful look that Molly was giving them was unbearable._

_"It's not _un_true," he answered, before saying to Molly: "Why don't _we_ help you?"_

_"Are you _sure_?" Molly regarded him and Bucky with suspicion. Though they hadn't done anything to cause Molly to doubt, Steve understood why she questioned them. It wasn't often that a male would offer to help with dance._

_"Yes, _I'm_ sure. What about you, Bucky?" Steve asked, turning Molly's expectant attention to Bucky. It wasn't long before Bucky caved in._

_"Oh, _fine_, I'll help you, but you can't tell anyone I did, you got it, Squirt?" Bucky gave a look of mock doubt to her._

_"Yep, I got it. Cross my heart, and hope to die," she said excited as she put an X over her heart._

_Steve set his book down, and stood up as Bucky did the same._

_"So, how does this _dance_ you're doing go?" Bucky asked. Steve and Bucky stood on either side of Molly, waiting for her to start._

_"Well, first you start in first position … like this …. And then it goes step … step, shuffle ball change … shuffle ball change," Molly said slowly as she went through the steps letting Steve and Bucky follow._

_From then on, Bucky and Steve helped Molly practice during their lunch times. It was an interesting thing to see how Molly improved as well as taught Bucky tap and an assortment of other dances. Steve, sadly, never got the hang of it, though he wished he had._


	3. Photographs

**Photographs**

* * *

"A picture is a secret about a secret, the more it tells you the less you know."

Diane Arbus

* * *

Steve flipped aimlessly through one of the textbooks he was learning from. Beside the book was the pile of his sketchbooks. He always kept them available on his desk so he could draw at his leisure.

The afternoon sun was shining through his window. He hadn't turned on the lights or the lamp in his room, he liked natural light. He'd grown up using that.

Halfheartedly, Steve read that caption of a painting of a battle during the Civil War. He knew that he was close to the time he'd lived in and the war he'd fought in.

The beginning of the twentieth century and a whole chapter dedicated to the Great Depression were close at hand, but Steve wasn't sure that he wanted to read them. To him, it felt like only last year that he'd been fighting Hydra, but to the world around him, it'd been decades upon decades since the 1940's.

He sighed and turned the pages a bit slower than normal. The sinking of the Titanic and the minor events in the beginning of the century acted as a prelude to the century. Then came the First World War

It still felt raw in his mind even if he hadn't fought in it, that war had been only a decade or two before he jumped into the next himself. He'd been in a war himself and had heard horror stories about World War I in his childhood from some of the adults. Steve wasn't sure if he wanted to know all the ins and outs of _that_ war, and he was certain that he'd had enough first hand experiences in the second war to make up for the few years that he'd missed out on.

Reluctantly, he flipped through World War I to the Great Depression and all the hardships that the country experienced during those long decades. He remembered what it'd been like a clear as day, and adjusting to the plentiful times he'd been thrust into was becoming harder and harder with every passing day.

(He'd often been surprised at the wastefulness in this century and sometimes wondering how he could afford some of the stuff that Tony had talked him into getting while on a shopping spree inspired by Pepper.)

Once he finished flipping through the extensive chapter on the Great Depression, the smile that came with reminiscing about his childhood faded quickly.

The featured photo for the chapter on World War II was a picture of himself in a tattered leather jacket, a gun in hand leading the freed prisoner back to an Allied camp from the Hydra facility.

Steve studied the black and white picture for a moment longer than he probably should have.

A small, sad smile appeared on his face hiding some of his pain. Flanking his left was Bucky, tired and worn from a long trek through hell, but alive. To his right looked like another soldier in a rugged, mismatched uniform. The soldier looked like he could have been any other soldier who'd escaped, maybe someone who ended up in the Howling Commandos or was just a healthy enough one to walk in front, but Steve knew better.

If the photographer had snapped the picture a moment or two later, the soldier's helmet would have been removed and a single braid would fall loose. The helmet would be removed to reveal Miss Victory as she ushered in victory along with Captain America.

"_Excuse me, Captain Rogers, but Miss Potts wishes to inform you that the team dinner will be in fifteen minutes,_" JARVIS announced, interrupting Steve's thoughts and nearly making him jump out of his skin.

"Ah … thanks, you can tell Pepper that I'll be there," Steve answered as he closed the textbook. It'd be easier to find that chapter than it was a singled out page of that book.

_I wish I had better group pictures of us._ Steve sighed. He had some time to himself before the team dinner, some time to improve his mood.

After a long moment, Steve reached over to the stack of sketchbooks and took the top one off the pile. That one had the most pages filled, so he already knew that it contained ones of Molly. It was only slightly more filled than the one belonging to Bucky.

His mind drifted briefly to each moment that the picture memorialized. There were three finished works and one unfinished piece. The only one that featured someone along with Molly was the one of her teaching Bucky to tap dance.

He chuckled. _I don't even know why Bucky agreed to that, but at least the two of them enjoyed._

Steve turned the page, though the picture was unfinished, he could still see what it was meant to be.

_I suppose drawings like this will make up for the lack of photographs,_ Steve mused tracing the guidelines and broader details of the drawing barely touching the paper.

"_Dinner is in five minutes, Captain Rogers,_" JARVIS informed.

"I'll be there." Steve got up from his seat leaving the sketch book opened. He planned to finish the drawing after dinner and start another one.

* * *

_"What's going on?" Steve asked, rubbing, some sleep from his eyes. It was too early for most, if any, of the residents of the orphanage to be up yet. It was too dark outside for that, but lights illuminated the hall and he could hear people moving about._

_"Don't look at me, I've been trying to get back to sleep for the last _ten_ minutes," Bucky snapped in response. Bucky's head was under his pillow on the bed next to Steve's._

_Steve looked around the room. Other ten, eleven, twelve, and thirteen year old boys had buried their heads under their pillows, trying to block out the noise and the light that seeped through the cracks of the door._

_He was about to do the same when from behind to door to their room, he heard Mrs. Gilford (their caretaker) say: "Oh, I do hope the doctor will be willing to make a house call at this time of night. Poor Molly won't get any sleep tonight with that cough and fever; something has to be done about that."_

_"Yes, dear, I know," replied a voice belonging to Mr. Gilford. "I'm going to see if he can come right now."_

_Steve's mind jumped from thinking about falling back to sleep to wondering what had happened to Molly._

_"_Bucky_, did you hear what Mrs. Gilford said?" he whispered._

_"No, _Steve_, I didn't I was trying to sleep," Bucky responded in an irritated voice._

_"The commotion going on out there, it's because Molly's sick," he informed while slipping out of bed._

_Bucky peeked out from under his pillow to give Steve a questioning look._

_"I thought she was getting better. They said she might be able to go to school tomorrow," Bucky replied, concern mingled in with his groggy voice._

_Steve shrugged. "I guess she got worse overnight, we both know how _that_ is."_

_"Where are you going?"_

_"To see Molly, of course. If she's still up right now, she's gotta be lonely. Do you know how _dull_ it is to sit at the table and drink tea while waiting for the doctor?"_

_"No, but you're gonna get sick too if you go see her."_

_"Yeah, but Molly needs at least one of us right now."_

_With his slippers on, Steve slipped out of one of the boys' rooms. If he knew Bucky, it wouldn't be long before both of them were at the kitchen table comforting Molly._

_Molly had better health than Steve, but sometimes a cold or bad case of influenza or even the chicken pox made it past her defenses and she was out for the count with something for a week or two._

_"Come on," Bucky said as he pulled his robe over his pajamas. "Let's go see Molly and you'd better _not_ catch whatever she has. If Molly's got it bad, you'd get it worse."_

_Steve nodded his consent to the hollow threat. They both knew that whatever was going around the orphanage usually got around to Steve and he had it multiple times worse than everyone else._

_They walked down the hall and flights of stairs to the kitchen quickly. Everyone else in the orphanage was trying to sleep and ignoring the fact that some were suffering._

_"Now, now, dearie," dotted Mrs. Gilford as they arrived at the kitchen. "Drink this, it might help."_

_"Thank you," a hoarse voiced Molly replied as she was handed the cup of steaming tea that Mrs. Gilford had made to remedy Molly's symptoms. "Hi Bucky, hi Steve. What are you doing up?"_

_Mrs. Gilford's back had been turned to them so only the nine (almost ten) year old noticed them._

_"James Barnes and Steve Rogers, what _are_ you doing up? The both of you should be in bed, right now, you've got school tomorrow," Mrs. Gilford said in a subdued yet scolding tone._

_"We came to see Molly," said Steve. "Is she alright?"_

_He thought he heard Bucky mutter: "Yeah, misery _loves_ company," under his breath before he asked about Molly's health._

_Molly shook her head in non-verbal response to Steve's question as she sipped her mug of tea. Mrs. Gilford was the one who spoke for her._

_"Molly is certainly unwell, but she's a resilient one, she'll be fine. Go back to bed." Mrs. Gilford tried to placate their worries, but it definitely didn't help Steve. He was especially worried when Molly quickly put down her mug to have a coughing fit._

_"Do you think we could keep Molly company for a bit? Maybe that'll help her," Bucky offered with a smile._

_Mrs. Gilford looked at the ceiling, sighed, and relented. "Alright, you two may stay up for a little while, but you need to get some sleep, and Steve, try _not_ to catch whatever Molly's got. I'm going to see what's become of Mr. Gilford."_

_Their caretaker left the room as he and Bucky took a seat at the small table in the kitchen. Despite being weak and tired, Molly was giving them the brightest smile that she could._

_For the time being, they sat in silence as Molly drank her tea slowly and Bucky yawned._

_"You guys don't have to be up, you know?" Molly said finally in a soft, hoarse whisper as she polished off her tea._

_"Yeah, but we want to be," Steve told her._

_"No, we don't." Bucky yawned._

_Molly gave him a look of mock offence. They both knew that one of Bucky's quirky ways of showing affection was saying things contradictory to what he felt._

_"You gonna be okay, Squirt?" Bucky asked once he'd finished yawning like a cat _again_._

_Molly shrugged. "I hope so, but I sure don't feel like it now."_

_"You're gonna be alright, Molly, you've always pulled through before," Steve encouraged._

_She merely shrugged again. "I don't know. This feels worse. Are you sure you should be here, Steve? This is definitely something I don't want you to catch."_

_"I'll be fine. Even if I catch it, I'm sure if you pull through I'll be able to do the same."_

_Molly gave a small smile, but said nothing in reply._

_"It's been a little while. Steve shouldn't we get back to be like I said we would?" Bucky piped up._

_"I guess, but can you sleep Molly?" Steve threw her a questioning look. He'd heard what Mrs. Gilford had said. It worried him._

_She shook her head. "I can't. I feel too cold and I have nightmares. Besides the others say I'm too noisy to sleep in our room."_

_"Has Mrs. Gilford given you hot chocolate yet?" Bucky questioned. Mrs. Gilford always made hot chocolate for anyone who woke up with a nightmare._

_"No, she says it'll make my throat worse," she explained, her raw voice punctuated it._

_"So you can't sleep, _but_ you can't have hot chocolate _either_?"  
_

_Molly nodded._

_"That's gotta sink." He gave Molly a sympathetic look._

_Molly shrugged complacently. She had quite a bit of experience with nonverbal communication, sometimes it was easier for her to not use her voice, but as he sat there Steve could see that having an achy throat was really getting to Molly._

_"If we're gonna stay up late, let's at least do something other than sit here," Bucky suggested in a grumpy, put out tone. He was probably trying to convince Steve to go back to bed, but it had the opposite effect on him and Molly._

_"Do you think you could read me something, Steve?" she asked hoarsely._

_"Sure," he responded. "Come on, I know just the book."_

_Steve got off his chair quickly and led the younger two towards the den._

I know I left that book somewhere,_ he thought as he surveyed the end table by the couch. Molly had already turned a lamp on and curled up expectantly in a corner of the couch. Bucky sat down in the other corner and prepared to sleep there, leaving the middle cushion for Steve._

_"Here we are," Steve said as he grabbed the book he'd sought for from its place on the book shelf._

_"What are we gonna listen to?" Bucky asked with a yawn._

_"_The Adventures of Robin Hood_."_

_The title of the book instantly put a smile on Molly face and Bucky looked like he was going to pay more attention._

_The next morning, Mrs. Gilford awoke them from where they'd fallen asleep on the couch. Thankfully, Molly's fever had broken sometime during the night. It wasn't long after that that the three of them were walking to school together like they always did, that was until Steve came down with the same thing that Molly had had and it was Molly who read _The Adventures of Robin Hood_ to them._


	4. Gifts

**Gifts**

* * *

"The greatest gift that you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance."

Brian Tracy

* * *

_Steve tapped his pencil against his desk as he impatiently watched the clock while the seconds ticked by._

Come on, just wait another minute, and then I can get out of here,_ he thought trying to divert his attention back to his textbook, but failed._

_ Normally, he wouldn't be eager to leave school for the weekend. School and his studies was the only place where he could actually compete with his peers, but today was a special day, a day when his asthma and sickliness meant nothing._

_ Today was Molly's thirteenth birthday._

_ "Thirty seconds more, just be patient," he muttered softly as he put his papers and other school supplies in his schoolbag in preparation to rush out of the classroom._

_ In the last few seconds of waiting, Steve absentmindedly wondered if the anticipation that he now felt was anything like that of what a runner felt waiting for the race to begin. Though he'd never understand what the feeling of being first off the starting line, because he wasn't the first one out the door of the classroom, even now when he was prepared to leave._

_ Though he wasn't the last student to leave the classroom, the high school hallways were already a hectic chaos as students rushed to get the last of their possessions before heading home for the weekend. He was in a similar rush to get out of school, but he had somewhere else to go before going to the orphanage._

_ He hurried as best he could out the door and to the schoolyard flagpole._

_ "Come on, Bucky where are you?" he mumbled impatiently as he scanned the crowd for the younger boy. The last of his fellow students slowly trickled out of the school. He'd been waiting for too long for his companion._

_ Steve was contemplating heading off when Bucky trotted out the door and hurried over to the flagpole._

_ "Sorry, Mr. Reynolds made me stay let," Bucky said, his breathing quickly returning to normal._

_ "I can only imagine why," Steve responded, shaking his head knowingly. He knew that the reason for Bucky's tardiness was due to one or other of his friend's immature antics. "Come on, they're gonna start wondering what happened to us and we need to get Molly's gift before we get back." _

_ "I know, we gotta hurry if we're gonna get to that bookstore before it closes," Bucky responded, readjusting his book bag on his shoulder before leading the way out of the schoolyard. Steve followed with a sigh._

_ The streets were busy with afternoon traffic as he and Bucky walked alongside the street, glancing every now and then into shop windows. Steve made sure that they didn't stop to stare in the window that they placed (namely the candy store) for very long, they needed to get to Jacob's bookstore quickly or else they'd miss their chance to get Molly a birthday present._

_ "Come on," Steve said as they turned a corner and hurried towards the bookstore. "We're almost there."_

_ "I still wish we could get Molly a pair of tap shoes," Bucky mumbled grumpily, but matched Steve's pace with ease._

_ "I know," he replied. "I do too, _but_ we can't afford it. Even Mr. Gilford couldn't afford it. Maybe someday we'll get Molly a pair, but I guess this time we'll have to settle for a book."_

_ "The only bright side is that Molly will still enjoy the book. Which one did you have in mind anyway?" _

_ "Ah …." Steve faltered with his words before he too shrugged. "I actually don't know. I was hoping you'd have some ideas."_

_ Bucky turned from staring straight in front of him to giving Steve a stunned expression. "You're joking, right?"_

_ Steve shook his head._

_ "I hardly read our textbooks and you expect me to have suggestions about what book we should get Molly?" Bucky gave a dry chuckle. "Steve, stop drawing and get into acting or something. You'd make a good comedian."_

_ "Okay," Steve said sarcastically, going along with Bucky's amusement. "I think I'll stick with art until I get a second opinion."_

_ Bucky chuckled heartily as they arrived in front of Jacob's Bookstore._

_ "It's already closed?" Bucky questioned as Steve's face fell. "It's not even five and it's _closed_."_

_ "That can't be right," Steve muttered as he looked past the sign stating the early closure of the bookstore. "Mr. Jacob doesn't usually close this early on Fridays, only on Saturdays."_

_ He'd known the owner of the bookstore for some time, and knew Mr. Jacob's schedule fairly well. This was definitely off for Mr. Jacob. It wasn't anywhere near a Jewish holiday and Mr. Jacob's children were all grown up, so Steve wasn't sure why the store was closed._

_ "Think we should … I don't know, see if someone is home or something," Bucky suggested. "Or we could go see if another bookstore is around here somewhere."_

_ "No, this is the only bookstore anywhere near the orphanage. Mr. Jacob is probably here … I hope," Steve mumbled in reply as he approached the door of the bookstore and knocked._

_ Steve waited patiently for an answer, while Bucky leaned against the sides of the entry way. Steve could hear the audible tap of the younger boy's foot behind him._

_ "I wonder where Mr. Jacob is," Steve thought out loud after several minutes of waiting._

_ Bucky had migrated from reclining against the wall to peering inside the shop after the first few minutes of waiting had passed._

_ "I think there's a light on in back room, come on let's find out," Bucky said, taking the door knob and turned it._

_ "Bucky, no, it's closed! We're not supposed to go in there!" Steve snapped in a hoarse whisper as Bucky opened the door and waltzed into Jacob's bookstore._

_ "Door's unlocked, so why not?" he retorted with a smirk on his face that Steve knew meant they were headed for trouble._

_ "Why do I even associate with you?" Steve let out a long-suffered sigh as he followed Bucky into the bookstore._

_ Steve saw that there really was a light on in the back room, but he also noticed that every other light that normally would be shining was off._

_ "That's odd," Steve murmured as he slowly crept after Bucky who was confidently walked towards the back. The numerous bookshelves were empty and cover with a layer of dust. He hadn't been to Jacob's in a while, and it would appear that something had changed drastically for Mr. Jacob's business._

_ "_Hello_, is anyone home?" Bucky called as Steve caught up to him._

_ "Bucky, I'm not even sure if Mr. Jacob is here," Steve said cautiously. He was pretty sure that they were definitely headed for trouble._

_ "Too late," Bucky retorted as they entered the back room, and much to Steve's horror and surprise someone was back there. "Hey, mister, are you Mr. Jacob?" _

So, Mr. Jacob was here,_ Steve assessed as the old gentleman turned around to face them._

_ "Oh … Hello, Steve and company, what are you doing here?" Mr. Jacob asked as he readjusted his glasses on his face._

_ "Sorry if we're interrupting anything, Mr. Jacob," Steve quickly said before Bucky could say anything that would get them into too much trouble._

_ "No, no, you're always welcome here, Steve. It's always nice to see you," Mr. Jacob placated with a smile._

_ "That's good, Bucky and I were hoping we could buy a book from you for Molly's birthday present." _

_ "Oh, so it's little Molly's birthday soon." Mr. Jacob smiled happily and nodded. Just like Steve, Molly often came to the bookstore to both read and, when she could, buy a book._

_ "Actually, mister, it's _today_ and we really, _really_ want to get her a present, if anyone out there deserves a present it's her," Bucky interjected in his usual near tactless manor._

_ "Yes, young man, I agree with you there. A sweet girl like Molly deserves a gift, recognition of some kind," Mr. Jacob answered giving another nod and readjusting his glasses again. "But, Steve, I'm afraid that I cannot help you give Molly something she deserves. You see, I'm unable to afford my shop anymore along with everything in it. Times are very hard right now and I can't afford it, even after surviving this long. I've already sold most everything I can, including most of my books."_

_ "Oh." Steve's face fell. He understood that the economy was extremely difficult at the moment, despite all the recent improvements it had made recently._

_ He'd hoped the empty bookshelves hadn't meant what he'd thought them to mean, but he'd hoped in vain. _

_ "But, mister, you have to have something leftover, don't you? Any old book would work, just so long as it isn't boring and Molly hasn't already read it. Please?" Bucky practically begged, trying desperately to ignore the reality of Mr. Jacob's situation. _

_ "Bucky ….." Steve tried to get Bucky to give up, but he couldn't help feeling the same way. He wanted to get a present for Molly too._

_ A thoughtful look took over Mr. Jacob's face for a moment. "I think I might have _something_ for you. Are you certain any book would do?" _

_ "Yes!" Bucky blurted out eagerly and Steve almost joined in._

_ "Then … I might have something for you, I'll have to go get it for you," Mr. Jacob said, giving them yet another nod before moving further into the back room and up into the apartment above._

_ In a few minutes of waiting, they heard the squeaking if stairs as Mr. Jacob came down them. Steve couldn't help, but wonder what Mr. Jacob had for them, even if he felt a little foolish because of Bucky's method of getting it._

_ "Here we are. I don't know if it'll work for you, Steve but I certainly hope it does," Mr. Jacob said, presenting a thin blue book with an odd title to them._

_ "_And Think I saw it on Mulberry Street_?" Bucky read as he handled the book._

_ "Yes, I'm lucky to still have a copy. This book is very popular among the children. Molly may even like it," replied the owner. "It's a sort of poem, but it has many interesting illustrations to go along with it."_

_ "What do you think, Bucky?" Steve asked as the younger boy looked through the book. _If I didn't know better, I'd think Bucky was reading it.

_Bucky hadn't given Steve a chance to look at the book, and it didn't seem as if he was going to._

_ "I think … I think that this'll work," Bucky said slowly as he turned the last page. "Mister, how much do you want for the book?"_

_ Instead of nodding, Mr. Jacob shook his head. "No, no, for you and Steve this will be on the house. Just tell Molly it's also a present from me, I'd like to be there to see her face when you give it to her, but I'll settle for what I have."_

_ "No, Mr. Jacob, you're in need to it more than us," Steve replied, digging into his pockets, searching for the two dollars or so he and Bucky had saved to buy Molly a gift._

_ "No, Steve, please take the book, it's the least I could do and not even a few dollars would help me now," Mr. Jacob told him with a kind hearted smile and held his hands up in silent continuation of his protests. "Besides, Steve, the book you now have will certainly contain more memories for you, Molly, and many other in a matter of years. You don't need to pay me, especially when I know that it'll be better hands than my own."_

_ "Well, thanks, mister, I'll certainly tell Molly it's from you just as much as it is from us." Bucky stepped forward quickly and vigorously shook Mr. Jacob's hand. Before Steve knew what was happening, Bucky was out the front door and he was left in the back room with Mr. Jacob._

_ "Mr. Jacob, if you won't accept payment for the book, than at least accept … ah, a donation." Steve finally grabbed a majority of the numerous coins that made up the two dollars he and Bucky had. "Please."_

_ "Alright, Steve, I'll accept it," he answered. "But, keep some of it and take care."_

_ Mr. Jacob took the handful of change that Steve had been able to grasp and Steve headed out the door._

_ "Bye, Mr. Jacob," he called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him._

_ "Come on, Steve, let's go home," Bucky energetically stated before all but sprinting towards the orphanage._

_ Steve tried to keep up with Bucky's gait, but eventually the younger boy had to slow down for him. It was almost late afternoon when they approached the orphanage._

_ "So when are we gonna give Molly the book?" Bucky asked as he slowed his determined pace._

_ "I don't know," he replied through heavy pants. "After dinner maybe?"_

_ "That sounds like a plan. I hope she likes it, it's almost as good as tap shoes," he said as they stepped up the concrete steps of the orphanage._

_ "I hope so too."_

_ As Steve climbed the stairs, he looked up towards the front window of the orphanage and saw Molly sitting on the window seat, reading. But when she looked up from her book and saw them, her smile grew bright and she disappeared from her seat quickly._

_ "The Punk and the Jerk have finally arrived home," Molly greeted jokingly as they entered the front hall. _

_ "And as always, Squirt is here to greet us," Bucky replied and a small smile spread over Steve's face. Their friendship was a surprisingly resilient one, especially if Molly could call them what most consider terms of insults as nicknames that'd stuck around after a fight._

_ "Happy birthday, Squirt," Bucky continued as he pulled Molly into a hug. He was much taller than little Molly. Bucky had hit a growth spurt recently and was taller than both of them._

_ "Happy birthday, Molly," Steve repeated, patting her on the shoulder. _

_ "So you two remembered?" she joked with an even broader smile._

_ "Of course we remembered, Molly. How could we forget your birthday? You're a hard one to forget," Bucky said. _

_ "Thanks, but we might want to hurry, it's almost time for supper and you're pretty late as it is. … Why are you late anyway? I was getting worried," she asked while they walked to the dining hall._

_ "You didn't need to worry about us, Molly. We were late because someone had to stay at school late _again_." Steve gave Bucky a dry look._

_ Molly let out a sigh that sounded almost motherly. "What did you do this time, Bucky?"_

_ "English class is so boring, Molly. I have to do something to keep myself entertained," he answered coolly and gave the same smirk that meant trouble._

_ "How are you ever going to finish school with that attitude, Bucky?" _

_ "I don't know, but he seems to be doing just fine, even with all the trouble he finds his ways into," Steve interjected. He'd wondered the same thing too._

_ "Well, at least I don't end up with a black eye very often," Bucky retorted._

_ They walked into the dining hall and took seats at an empty portion of a table. The dining hall was already active and full of hungry children, eating the soup that had been served for dinner that night._

_ As it was with most meals, there wasn't much conversation between the trio. For reasons that Steve didn't know, Molly didn't often converse during meals. She preferred to listen to conversation between him and Bucky or the ones that other around them were having._

_ Tonight, he and Bucky didn't talk. Steve felt that if he were to talk, it'd give away that he and Bucky had gotten her a gift._

She's going to be so surprised,_ he mused as he observed Molly eat her soup. Of course, Molly wasn't expecting a present. It'd been years since many of those in the orphanage had gotten a gift at any other time except Christmas. _

_ "I'm done," Molly announced as she stood from her seat. "I'll see you guys after you're done."_

_ Steve watched her head towards the kitchen where she deposited her dishes in the sink. He knew that Bucky had been waiting for Molly to leave because of the anxious look on his friend's face._

_ "Come on, let's go and give it to her now," Bucky said eagerly, beginning to gather up his dishes._

_ "Give it some time, Bucky, at least finish your soup," Steve admonished before he polished off his glass of milk._

_ With a disgruntled sigh, Bucky continued with eating his soup but with a little more interest. _

_ "There, I'm done, let's go." Bucky didn't even give Steve time to respond and took off towards the kitchen._

_ He could only shake his head as he followed Bucky with both their schoolbags slung over his shoulders._

_ "You forgot this." Steve handed Bucky the bag after he'd deposited his own dishes in the proper place._

_ "Thanks. Where would Molly be right now?" _

_ Steve glanced up at the kitchen block before answering: "We couldn't have timed it more perfectly. Molly always reads to the little kids after their done listening to the radio." _

_ Quickly, Steve led the way to the den where the orphanage's radio was._

_ Looking into the den, Steve saw a very normal sight. The youngest children of the orphanage were gathered around the radio listening to what he gathered to be the last portion of the radio show _The Lone Ranger_. Some of the older children were sitting around doing their homework, reading, or knitting, as was the case with most of the girls in the room and Molly._

_ "Come on, let's get the couch before someone else gets the idea," Bucky suggested, nudging Steve into the den. Following Bucky's suggestion, he sat down in his traditional spot in the middle of the couch while Bucky took the other unoccupied corner._

_ Steve gave a nod and a smile to Molly when she looked up from her project. He leaned back against the couch and took out his homework to start it before the weekend came. Steve found that it was much easier to pass the time doing something while listening to the climax of the radio show. Meanwhile Bucky was sucked into the drama coming in through the air waves._

_ He drummed his fingers against his knees as he contemplated a math problem when he noticed that the radio show had ended and the group of children had migrated from around the radio to around the couch._

_ "Molly, could you read to us?" asked a little boy named Marcus._

_ "Of course I will," Molly answered setting aside her knitting project. "Which book do you want me to read tonight?"_

_ There was a murmur among the youngest of the orphanage, but they came to no consensus about which book they wanted Molly to read._

_ "Now?" he heard Bucky whisper._

_ "Now." Steve nodded to Bucky and the younger boy dug around in his schoolbag before handing Steve the gift. "Here, Molly why don't you read this one? It's your birthday present."_

_ An expression of astonishment captured Molly's face as she gingerly accepted the book from him. _

_ "Please, Molly, read it," Marcus begged earnestly before Molly had time to respond to Steve._

_ She nodded to the young enthusiastic child as she opened the book._

_ Molly began to read and the words rolled elegantly off her tongue._

_ "_And to Think I Saw it on Mulberry Street_," she read the title before going into the first pages. The book wasn't that long of a read for Molly, but the poem that made up the story captivated the young audience and the illustrations fascinated them._

_ "'Nothing,' I said, growing red as a beet, 'But a plain horse and wagon on Mulberry Street'." She smile and closed the book, signaling that it'd ended. "That's the end, now it's time for all of us to get ready for bed."_

_ There were tired complaints lodged as Molly shooed them towards the dormitory area of the orphanage. She was firm and kind as she ushered them towards their quarters and it wasn't too long before Molly, Steve, and Bucky were the only ones left in the den._

_ Steve look into Molly's face and could see that she wanted to say something, probably thank the, in some way, but she was having trouble vocalizing it._

_ "Guys … I don't know what to say," she started, holding her book close. "Thank you _so_ much."_

_ Steve replied first. "You're welcome, Molly."_

_ "Yeah, Molly, the book's especially for you," Bucky chimed in. "From me, Steve, and Mr. Jacob to you."_

_ "Thanks so much," she replied hugging Steve and Bucky. "I'll treasure it forever."_

* * *

_Well, this should be interesting,_ Steve thought as he put his plate on the kitchen island and took a seat.

Surprisingly, the family-esque dinner that Pepper had orchestrated with the assistance of Janet had turned out quite well. They'd managed to get the scientists out of their lab without anything detonating and the assassins had shown up since they were in town.

It was surprising that all of them had gotten to the table at the same time (all due to Pepper and Janet's efforts). Usually it was rare that two people were eating a meal at the same time, conventional or unconventional.

However, though the team was at a normal setting, it was turning into anything but average.

"Tony, eat something other than ice cream," Pepper insisted as Tony dug a spoon into a carton of some kind of ice cream that was green with black chips in it.

"It's my kitchen, so I can eat what I want to," responded the inventor.

"Eating ice cream isn't the healthiest thing," Bruce commented. "It's only a quick source of energy; you'll be hungry again in a few hours."

"Yeah, I know what this is. Its good stuff," Tony replied with a smirk.

"What is it anyway?" Steve questioned. "I've never seen ice cream like that before."

Tony gave him a questioning look with a mixture of mock and real astonishment but it was turned comical due to the spoon in his mouth.

"You've never seen ice cream like _this_?" Tony's tone was full of surprise.

Steve shook his head. "Green ice cream is one of the weirdest _nonlethal_ things I've seen yet."

"Well, at least it isn't green eggs and ham, though that would be healthier for _you_, Tony," Pepper remarked as she took another carton of probably the same ice cream form the fridge, grabbed a bowl, and began to put ice cream in it.

"Green eggs and ham?" Steve echoed, giving an inquisitive look to Pepper.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dr. Seuss?" Janet gave him a flabbergasted look.

"I've heard of him, he's written two or three good children's books. The kids that I knew loved them, even some of the older ones too," he answered.

"_Cat in the Hat_? _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_? _Hop on Pop_? Any of those sound familiar? …. No? No! Not even _Horton Hears a Who_?" Tony sounded and looked torn between laughing and being offended.

"I've heard of Horton, but isn't he sitting on an egg?"

Tony shook his head in mock dismay and Steve heard him mutter: "The next chance I get, I'm getting you a Stark!Reader and you're reading all the Dr. Seuss books we can find."

"No, Tony, a Kindle or a Nook is much easier to use than a Stark!Reader and less egotistical on your part," Pepper commented, setting the bowl of ice cream in front of Steve. "Try it, it's good."

"Thanks." Steve took the spoon and almost cautiously put it into the desert. He eyed the chunks and chips of black before putting the spoonful into his mouth.

When he put the spoonful in his mouth a black of mint hit his taste buds along with a hint or two of chocolate. He couldn't hide the smile that spread across his face.

"You like it?" Janet asked, breaking the expectant silence around them. "It's called mint chocolate chip."

"I can see why." Steve took another spoonful as he went back to watching the next portion of the conversation.

"Speaking of Dr. Seuss books, what's you guys' favorite? …. Come on, share with the class. Everyone except Star Spangled Man with the Plan hasn't heard of 's best works, _come on_!" Tony asked overdramatically. "Okay, fine, I'll start. My favorite Dr. Seuss is _Hop on Pop_."

"Oh, of course it'd be." Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose, and then sighed before answering the question, "I'd have to say mine would either be _One Fish Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish_, or _There's a Wocket in my Pocket_. I can't decide which."

There was silence as everyone thought of their favorite story or decided if they should share (that seemed to be the case with the assassins).

"I've only read one Dr. Seuss book ever. I guess it'd be my favorite. It was _If I Ran a Circus_," Clint announced, a little less enthusiastic and more saddened by this.

Steve heard Natasha give a mirthless chuckle and he could see her hide a sad smile behind her hand.

"What's so funny?" Tony demanded, but of course, neither of the assassins made a reply. "Well, since you know something I don't, why don't you tell us what your favorite Dr. Seuss is, Natasha? Is it _The Butter Bread Book_?"

Natasha gave Tony a cold glare as Pepper elbowed him in the ribs.

"I've never read any of Dr. Seuss's works. They're for children."

"Well, that's a bummer. I'm getting you an e-reader too, with all the Dr. Seuss collection on it."

"_No_, you're _not_."

"Okay," Tony muttered, shrinking back. "Moving on, Janet the spotlight's on you."

Steve turned away from the assassin occupied end of the table to the scientific end.

"That's an easy one. It's _Oh, the Places You'll Go_. My dad gave it to me as a graduation present," Janet said with a bright smile.

"Well, that makes sense for any graduate, it's thoroughly appropriate for the student or anyone for that matter," approved Hank. "My favorite is _And to Think I saw it on Mulberry Street_."

"I know that one," Steve said happily. "It was the first he wrote."

"Well, that's everyone except Bruce," Tony said looking at the glasses faced scientist. "So what is it? _Horton Hears a Who_? Or _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_? Or some other Dr. Seuss?"

Bruce shrugged. "I'd have to say that it'd be _The Lorax_."

"I've only ever heard of one of those titles," Steve muttered. "And those are only children's books, how much has changed in other literature?"

"Yeah, you've definitely missed a lot. An e-reader would do you good," Tony said, but paused as if to think for a few moments.

"Tony, if you're thinking of having any form of computerized books speed delivered to the mansion, it can wait." Pepper gave Tony a pointed and annoyed look.

"Nah, that's not what I'm thinking at all … to the library," Tony overdramatically declared leaping from his stool and heading towards the library carrying his carton of mint chocolate chip with him.

"And that's about … what?" Janet gave Pepper a questioning look.

The strawberry blonde assistant sighed. "Your guess is as good as mine, especially after a conversation about Dr. Seuss."

Steve went back to eating his dinner and listening to an almost un-follow-able conversation on his part. He could understand the concepts that they were talking about (as long as it wasn't the scientific-ense, he had trouble with those), but they often sited references that he knew nothing about or the citations went right over his head when he did notice them.

_ I bet Molly would have loved those books,_ Steve mused as he recalled the different titles that the other Avengers had mentioned. _She thoroughly enjoyed his first book._

Just as a contented smile appeared on his face, it vanished quickly as he tensed. A wailing alarm sounded in their ears.

"What the heck is _that_?" Janet asked, her voice full of surprise and almost sounded something akin to panic.

"You know the drill, suit up, and meet in the conference room in ten," Steve declared and then stated for the clarification of Hank and Janet: "We're needed."

Dinner was quickly abandoned and everyone was headed to where their equipment was kept.

Steve all but sprinted to his room. Though his suit was kept elsewhere in the mansion, he needed something from his room.

The alarm such as the one that'd just been turned off meant that instead of meeting a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in a waiting quinjet, they would be going to the helicarrier for whatever mission that the whole group was needed for.

He remembered how long they'd waited to go on their mission the last time he'd been on the helicarrier. He'd had to spend most of that time in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s training room or in the lab and consequently in the way. He had no intention of that happening a second time.

From his desk, he quickly grabbed the copy _Of Mice and Men_ Bruce had lent him and closed the sketchbook containing the drawings of Molly. He still intended to finish the drawing of him, Molly, and Bucky reading, but in his head another idea for a picture that he could draw was forming.

With a few spare drawing supplies in hand, Steve tucked the book and sketchbook under his arm and headed to where his uniform was kept.

In a few minutes, he was standing in the conference room of the mansion along with Ant-Man, Wasp, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Bruce.

"It _seriously_ can't take Tony _that_ long to put on his armor," Clint commented impatiently.

"It doesn't, Leogolas," Tony said as he stalked in with a briefcase in hand and a thin book in the other. "It took me a long time to find this though."

The inventor held out the book to reveal the title: _And_ _to Think I saw it on Mulberry Street_.

"You held us up … for a children's book," Natasha scoffed bluntly.

"Yeah, I did. I knew I had this somewhere." Stark set the book on the table. Steve couldn't help, but see that it was an old copy of the book and looked as if it'd been through many hands. Not something typical of a Stark possession. This fact piqued Steve's curiosity. "I've had this since I was a kid. Dad gave it to me."

"Since we're done stalling, can we go now?" Clint questioned.

"Sure, I hope everyone has used the restroom though, I'd hate to be late because we had to make a potty stop," Stark commented as he sauntered out the door leading the way for everyone.

Steve, however, paused for a moment.

"It couldn't be …. No, that's impossible, it couldn't have survived," Steve murmured as he reached for the children's book.

Much to his surprise, when he opened the front cover he saw in a neat cursive script the name: Molly O'Brian

"You coming, Steve?" Bruce asked. The scientist hadn't left the room yet, but Steve hadn't noticed until he'd been spoken to.

"Yeah."

Steve rose, leaving the children's book on the table. It'd be safer there than on the helicarrier.

"Are you going to be alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost," Bruce commented as they walked to the hanger where the quinjet was waiting for them.

"I'll be fine."

"That book seems old enough that it could have belonged to you," the scientist prompted and Steve heard the unspoken question in the air.

"Yeah, it is, but it didn't belong to me. It was a birthday present for a dear friend."

**Like? No like? Don't care? Review anyway. I'd appreciate it. **

**Sorry for taking so long to update, meant to have something prepared for the Fourth, but I couldn't find a way to finish this chapter, so it waited until now. I really hope you like it, because when I was writing this I really felt that it would work better with the flashback first instead of last. I'd like to hear what you have to say on that topic.**

**A little explanation: I thought I'd give a brief history lesson right now, Dr. Seuss's first book, _And to Think I Saw it on Mulberry Street_, was published in in 1937, and _The Lone Ranger_ isn't just the latest Johnny Depp movie, it's an old TV show and also a radio show. _The Lone Ranger_ radio show first started in 1933. And one more thing, a lot of fanfiction writers seem to think that they had home TVs in the 40's, but historically it was the radio that was their television during that time period. However, since this is all fanfiction, this history lesson doesn't really matter.**

**What to expect soon: um, Pearl Harbor, and the beginning of Captain America's and Miss Victory's involvement in the war.**

**~Rayner out**


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